


and tomorrow never came

by the_aaliyah_rose_black



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Death, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, I Made Myself Cry, RMS Titanic, Sad Ending, Tragedy, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_aaliyah_rose_black/pseuds/the_aaliyah_rose_black
Summary: charles lightoller's last moments while and after the titanic sank.
Relationships: Charles Lightoller & William Murdoch (1873-1912), Charles Lightoller/Sylvia Lightoller
Kudos: 3





	and tomorrow never came

**Author's Note:**

> angst is my favorite thing to write!
> 
> and yes, i know that charles lightoller didn't die, but this is a fanfiction. i've always wondered what would've happened if lightoller had died on collapsible lifeboat b, since before he was able to get on the collapsible, he was pulled under from the suction of the ship only to get blasted to the surface by the ship's exploding boilers. 
> 
> title is a lyric from "empty chairs at empty tables!"

The icy water caught him slightly by surprise, as Charles Lightoller was frantically helping to try to push collapsible lifeboat B out of the water. Everything was so calm earlier, now it's complete chaos. Passengers are screaming, and he can hear Chief Officer Wilde yelling, "cut those bloody fouls!" 

The band is still playing, a song that sits on the top of his brain but he can't remember the name. All he can think about is how sad but beautiful the melody sounded, the violin music washing over him like waves. His legs and ankles now feel numb from the cold water, people thrashing all around him, unearthly moans in the air as the mighty and supposed "unsinkable," _Titanic's_ bow sinking into the North Atlantic. 

A sudden wave caught him by surprise, throwing him back into the water. The freezing temperature of the water stabbed him like a thousand knives stabbing all over his body, and it felt like he couldn't breathe. He kicked his legs and tried to tread water as the suction from the ship pulled him underwater, but the fight slowly left him as he got pulled in front of a vent below deck, one person drifting across his thoughts...

His wife, his dear wife, his Sylvia, her hands resting on the back of his neck while his arms around her waist, holding her close to him. He can picture her smile, her dark hair ticking his chin, her soft hazel eyes full of love when she looked at him, but worry too. 

_"Please come home safe, Charlie," she whispered before he left for Belfast for sea trials._

_Charles smirked slightly, "always, love. You know me." She chuckled, and he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft but emotional kiss._

Good god, he was making a liar of himself, wasn't he? And his children, his beloved children, who would surely read about this in the paper the next morning, and he wouldn't come home to them. It was then when his mind finally registered what the band had been playing - _Nearer My God to Thee._

And by some miracle, explosions from behind the vent burst, and he was suddenly thrust upward, gasping for air. His hands and legs felt like ice, the pain coming back to him. With adrenaline rushing through him, he managed to swim over to the overturned lifeboat, seeing other people attemtping to climb onto it. He heaved himself upward, gripping onto the lifeboat for dear life. The sound of snapping cables made his heart fall to the pit of his stomach, and he looked up with wide eyes, seeing the ropes holding the first funnel in place snapping backward. 

_Please don't fall, please don't fall,_ Charles pleading to himself, seeing people swimming toward the collapsible lifeboat, but his prayers go unanswered and the funnel falls.

With the ropes free, the funnel comes crashing down, slamming into the water, crushing the people beneath it. In its wake, two large waves form, one hitting him right in the back, thrusting him forward. He would have fallen right back underwater if he hadn't managed to grip onto the lifeboat at the last minute, heaving himself upward. 

He managed to pull several people onto the boat, hoping that all of them would be safe. His heart shattered when he didn't see William Murdoch or James Moody anywhere in the water, his heart shattering even more as he heard the screams coming from the people still on board the ship as she snapped in half, the stern sinking into the deep depths, before even more screams were heard, then it all went silent.

The stars glittered above him as he tried his best to balance on the boat. He was freezing, the cold had now turned to numbness, with sharp shots of pain every few minutes. His breathing was coming out in white puffs in front of him, and he's even colder than he was before. He felt weak, and his throat was sore, a mix from the frigid air and all the shouting he had done earlier. He taught the surviving men how to stand and sit on the boat so that they wouldn't fully sink, and his body was shaking as he stood up, feeling as though he could collapse any second. 

Charles felt now numb, and a tired haze descended over his brain. In the logical part of his mind, he knew he didn't have much time left. The sun rose over the horizon, but since he didn't have a watch, he didn't know what time it exactly was. The sun felt somewhat-warm on his face, and he couldn't help but notice how beautiful the sky looked like at that moment: an array of warm oranges, yellows, and pinks. A song that he heard Sixth Officer James Moody muttering under his breath came to mind: _Come, Josephine, in my flying machine, and it's up she goes._

The outline of a ship caught his attention, and he felt relief fill him: _The Carpathia._

The shaking in his knees made him fall back onto the lifeboat, and he felt the last of his strength leaving him. He felt numb all over, and his eyes felt heavy. He wanted to sleep, and the small, logical part of his brain knew that it was for forever. He felt himself slide off of the soaked lifeboat, but he didn't feel the icy water. His last thoughts before he slipped away forever was the glowing smile of his wife, the giggles of his children as he told them exaggerated tales of his adventures at sea, and the laughter of his fellow colleagues as he told jokes.

A glowing light descended over his vision as he saw multiple people on the other side: his mother, William Murdoch, looking bright and healthy, and James Moody, looking young and vibrant. 

And Charles Lightoller was ready to go home. 


End file.
